Bulletproof
by upt0wn g1rl
Summary: AU. Self declared hall monitor, Blaine Anderson finds himself in a pickle when he meets Kurt Hummel, a "Grade A high school bad boy". Eventual Klaine.


**AN:** Hey guys! I haven't written in ages, so I decided that I wanted to try it again. I have trouble writing fics, I also haven't found a story like this and I thought other people would be interested in reading something that's hopefully new and fresh! If you have any suggestions or if there's a mistake anywhere, let me know. :)  
>I'll try and update whenever I can, but I was gone out of school for a week since I had to go to Korea and attend my grandfather's funeral so I have a ton of make-up work. Once I get that out of the way, I'll try to update at least once a week though.<p>

Sorry for the long AN, onwards to the story!  
><strong>Edit: I found some grammatical errors so I fixed them.<strong>

x

I roughly threw the tomato with all my might. When I heard the familiar splat sound of the fruit, and the angry groan of said target, I smiled. I guess my aim wasn't as bad as I thought, my grin grew bigger. So did my ego.

"How ya like me now, Hummel?" I shouted. I did a small victory dance, but my celebratory dance got cut short when I felt a cold stick of celery hit me square in the nose. The victory dance probably wasn't such a good idea… Nonsense, Anderson! The victory dance is always a good idea no matter the consequences. I squaked in pain, the bastard must've found a frozen supply of celery or something because that hurt like a bitch and it was ice cold. I heard a few chunks of ice hit the ground, I shivered when I felt a small cool blast of air hit my face. One thing was for sure, Kurt Hummel and frozen celery had a lot in common. They were both thin, cold on the inside and outside, not very well-liked, and they were easy to break.

Well, not so much the last one, but it makes me feel better when I say that he's weak.

I look around for some sort of ammo, that tomato was the last one I gathered from the measly section of fruits and vegetables that the school supplied. Leave it to McKinley to serve the minimum requirements for everything. I groaned in annoyance, we were both running low on ammo.

I'm pretty sure he was too.

Hopefully, he was.

I desperately searched for worthy ammo and smiled when I saw what I wanted.

Spaghetti. This would be the hardest stain to remove and he would hate me, if he hadn't started hating me already. Thank the non-existent lord; this is exactly what I wanted! I squatted down onto the ground, I hunted for a table that could provide a good shield and thankfully that's where the spaghetti was. I quickly crawled over to the overturned, spaghetti loaded table and grabbed a handful of the noodles, much of the sauce slipped through the gaps between my fingers, but I didn't care at the moment. Some sort of holy deity loved and blessed me with this spaghetti! I waited for him to make his move, but I was only greeted by silence. I gulped nervously. What is he trying to pull? My heart started beating faster, he can't win this, he just can't! I slowly stood up from behind the upturned lunch table.

It's all or nothing, right?

When I turned around, a cry rung out through the air from the other side of the cafeteria, but it wasn't just any cry.

It was a battle cry.

My eyes widened when I saw him. His white, designer jeans were ruined with sauce and grime from the filthy cafeteria floor, his light purple and blue striped dress shirt was tied onto his head like a turban, most likely to protect his hair I assume, not that I know that he takes care of his hair like a hawk or anything, but getting to the point of his attire, he had some sort of sauce painted onto his face like tribal men do in wartime.

And his weapon of choice? A frozen celery stick in each hand.

That bastard.

I gripped the soggy noodles in my hands tighter, I shuddered when the once warm, but now cold sauce slid down my arms. I let out a deep breath, took some stray sauce, and decorated my face with streaks of tomato sauce across my cheeks and forehead. I ran out from behind the table and charged at him, he was closer than I though he was, so I ran faster than I had ever run before in my life. If you've ever heard of ways to run faster, pretend dinosaurs are behind you, it really works. I let out my own battle cry.

He may have won most of our battles, but I will win this war.

x

If your name is not Blaine Anderson and you're reading this, you are official a loser because only I should be reading what I wrote, so MOM, put my notebook down because it's not yours to read. And sharing your feelings with your parents is for wieners.

Most stories start in the middle or with action for whatever weird reason, but I should probably start from the very beginning. Let's start from when my parents were having sex and creating me! Just kidding. That's gross to think about actually. Sorry I wrote that down Notebook, I have cursed my own mind with the horrid image of my parents have sex burned into my brain for the rest of the evening, and maybe even the rest of my life. It'd make a great boner kill come to think of it... Sorry, again, that was off track. I need to start right from the beginning, the right beginning, Notebook, because I have so much to say about one Kurt Hummel.

Now my dear Notebook, if you think what I have to say is good about Kurt, then you are soooo wrong. Seriously! That guy is such a jerk! I know I shouldn't be rude, but I'm not being rude, I'm merely stating the harsh truth. See, I had only been at the school for, like, a week and at the end of that week I knew he was a jerk. As hall monitor, I've noticed that he's always late for class and that he has no respect for other students, like ME, and teachers. He also defied me twenty-two times too many, but who's counting, Notebook? Certainly not me! I don't care about him AT ALL.

-insert nostalgic sigh here- Remember when I first became hall monitor? You don't? Well, allow me to fill you in. HAHAHA, pun somewhat intended!

x

I walked into the school a bit nervous. I'm normally a confident person, but I'm at a public school. A public school. A place where drugs go around like air, a place where sex is easier to get than an F- in math, a place where there are bullies just like in the movies. Public school is just capable of anything and everything. I'm not sure where I am and there aren't any maps nearby. Not even a fire escape map. I'm more than 110% sure that that's illegal. I sighed in defeat and mindlessly wandered the halls. My eyes automatically glance at every person that passed by me, my paranoia of being stabbed by a sharp #2 for being a hot stud is getting the best of me. Most of the people are wearing letterman jackets or scantily clad cheerleading uniforms. Well, most of the cool people that is. The obvious nerds are wearing ugly plaid shirts tucked into their high waters. I made a note to avoid people dressed like them as much as possible. A gothically dressed Asian girl with a brightly dressed black girl came up to me out of nowhere. I jumped a bit at how un-expected it was. Were they not aware of something called personal space?

"You lost?" The black girl asked me. I nodded at her slowly. I saw in very many movies and television shows that public school kids are kind of slow.

"Where are you headed to?" The Asian girl asked.

"The principal's office, I need to pick up my schedule." I informed them. I threw them a particularly charming and friendly smile. Adding in a friendly smile never hurt anyone. The odd duo looked at each other and giggled.

"You're actually standing right in front of. I'm Mercedes, and this gorgeous girl is Tina. Mercedes said, Tina giggled again.

"Oh," I laughed a fake laugh, but it sounded sincere. I would know, I have enough practice laughing at my dad's lame jokes. "Silly me."

"We have to go," Tina said, looking at her bright blue watch. "Sorry we can't properly help you. Good luck on your first day, New Kid." Ugh, I hated it when people don't call me by my real name. I guess I should cut Tina some slack since I never did introduce myself, but I got enough of that from _him_.

'Geez, Blaine this is school not home, don't think about him in what's supposed to be a safe and happy learning place!' I thought silently. I pushed the negative thoughts about him while I grinned at the girls.

"My name is Blaine." I notified them politely.

"Good luck on your first day, _Blaine_." Tina said correcting herself. They waved good-bye to me, and I walked into the office once they were out of my view. I stood in what appeared to be the principal's assistant's office. The large woman at the desk was typing something on her computer intently. I coughed, hoping to get her attention, but she continued to type and productively ignored me.

"Excuse me, but may I go into the principal's office?" I asked. She lazily rolled her eyes to look at me.

"Hold on a sec," She grumbled. She pressed a button and spoke into a machine. "Figgy, you've got a new kid in the office, I'm sending him in." On the other line, a voice shouted at her, but I couldn't understand a word it said. "You can go see him now."

I opened the door and smiled my most charming smile. An old Indian man who seemed to be in his late 50's sat behind a large oak desk. He returned a smile, but it had nothing on mine.

"Welcome to McKinley High, Blaine Anderson." He greeted with a thick accent.

Mr. Figgins had given me all the details about the school, after-school activities, sports, classes, and everything else I need to know. He even warned me not to use the boys' bathroom on the second floor, I felt like throwing up while he gave me the horrifyingly disgusting details about its horrible conditions. He handed me my schedule and got out of his seat to shake my hand, but I stayed put in my seat.

"Sir, with all due respect, I must say that I'm rather, well, appalled that you don't have a hall monitor," He looked at me with much confusing and sat back down into his oversized chair, slowly. "How many kids were tardy to class today?" I asked in a serious tone. The Indian man stared at me for a bit, but then turned to his computer to find out.

"No students were tardy today." He responded proudly. I felt a little bad that I was about to crush what little pride he had left in this dingy school, but it had to be done.

"Wrong. While I hate to be the bearer of bad news, I must enlighten you with this, sir, but 46 students were tardy today. It seems as the staff hasn't been doing their duty by putting down who was tardy and who was not. I counted. Twice," I paused to let this new information sink into the bamboozled principal's head. "I can end this horrific nightmare if you instate me as McKinley High's new Hall Monitor. I'm good at what I do, sir. You might even call me a professional hall monitor; I've been doing this since _middle_ _school_." I said a matter-of-factly. He glared at me in response. "I'm free of charge. All I ask for is a button to show my position."

He stopped glaring at me, smiled, and said, "Deal. You start tomorrow."

x

So, Notebook, that is how I ended up in this mess and it's all his fault.

Not, Principal Figgins' fault.

This could never be Principal Figgins' fault, he's a good man (though he could use some help in the hygiene department a little, seriously, hasn't the guy heard of deodorant?).

Oh no, no, Notebook, this is Kurt Hummel's fault.

But I'm going to show him who the real boss is.

See, I _may_ have exaggerated a bit about the whole "46 students" thing, I mean seriously, how else was he going to believe me if I didn't stretch the truth a little bit? But don't worry, a little white lie doesn't make me a bad person, I'm just trying to help the school out a little. It was the only way to get this job and I don't regret a second of it.

I only regret talking to Kurt Hummel.

Did I ever tell you how we first met?

x

I went to my second class with pride. First period wasn't bad, I could hear the sneers of the jocks, but those baboons will soon know their places. I stealthily took out the Notebook and wrote down a list of punishments that was listed on the syllabus, handed out by the teacher earlier, for future reference. I smiled when my list was twice as long as the teacher's and I wasn't even finished yet! I raised my hand to show my list off to the teacher when I felt a paper ball thrown at the back of my head, I turned around to face my assailant when a shower of paper balls hit me in the face. For a team that I heard sucked, they all had pretty good aim. I felt a sting of pain on my right cheek, I think I got a paper cut on my face, I'm pretty sure that's a felony! Right when I was about to open my mouth, my tablemate, who I didn't even know was there, beat me to it.

"Wow, Dave," The tablemate said picking up a neatly made paper ball. "This paper ball isn't half bad, you're actually kind of good with arts and crafts. Isn't that _gay_?" He emphasized.

"Shut up, Fairy." The jock grunted at my tablemate like an animal as if to scare him, but he didn't even flinch.

"Boys," The teacher warned, she seemed like she didn't want to get into it.

I put my hand down and took out a small notepad with yellow paper. "What's your full name, Dave?"

"Why do you want to know?" Dave asked roughly.

"I'm issuing you a detention for the physical assault of me and the verbal abuse of another student," I said not looking up as I filled out the form. "I'm the new Hall Monitor." I finished, flashing him a smile and handing him his slip. The jock just stared at the paper.

"Do you really think I'm gonna take that?" Dave asked.

"If you don't, the Principal will hear about this and it won't be pretty. I had a little chat with him, so here's the big picture, _Dave_. You fill it out the rest of this form that indicates your detention, being an after-school or Saturday detention, I haven't decided yet, but I'll give you a bit of a break since this is your first time getting one of these bad-boys. During your detention, I'll just make you scrape gum off of everything in one classroom instead of all 50 of them, including the gym, how does that sound?" I replied sweetly.

Dave paled a bit and nodded silently. The other jocks seemed to shrink in their seats as well.

"Just sign here and we'll be all set," I said handing him the form and a ballpoint pen. "Don't forget to hand the form to Mr. Figgins so he's aware of your duty." The bell rang and Dave quickly escaped the classroom as well as the other jocks. I quickly put my books away; I needed to fulfill my other duties.

"Blaine, right?" A farmiliar voice asked, I turned around to face a devastatingly handsome boy who I recognized as my tablemate.

"Yes, and you are?" I asked opening my locker and dumping my books in.

"Your tablemate, Kurt Hummel." Kurt said holding his hand out, I shook it gently. His grip was firm, but friendly.

"I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson." I told him, his warm and inviting hand still in mine.

"Thank you for standing up for me like that. Most people don't even intervene like you did." Kurt said. I blushed and let out a small laugh.

"No problem, I just want people to feel safe, you know?" I said.

"Yeah," Kurt said a little bit breathlessly. I felt my hand sweating and Kurt could feel it too since he let go of my hand. We both let a out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I hope it's not awkward now."

"No, it's fine, I need to get to class now, but I'll see you around, Kurt." I said, slowly walking away.

He smiled and waved me good-bye. I wasn't sure if I was just hearing things, but I think I heard him mutter, "With any luck, I will."

x

It seems so un-realistic, huh? He seemed like a match made in heaven at the time.

Oh, how wrong I was.

He thought he could deceive me with this whole _"Oh, I'm the bullied gay kid, I'm nice and blah blah blah! Blaine you're so hot, save me!" _What a joke. He's good though, he's real good, Notebook, but you know me, I'm smart, I'm cunning, and I know the minds of these school crimials better than they know themselves. He's what they would call a Grade A high school bad boy.

That's right, Notebook, your tattered pages do not cozen you, Kurt Hummel is McKinely High's bad boy.

God, we could've had a good thing going on y'know? He's the handsome classmate, and I'm cute and adorable and hard-working and a generally good guy who tries to help people and make the school a better place 24/7. But even if we did have a relationship, it'd be forbidden and I'd be a mockery to hall monitors all over the country, heck, maybe even the _globe_.

But you know how it is Notebook, things get complicated once ideas and thoughts clash constantly, but this is good for me. I need a common enemy that isn't a jock who could beat me up if they had the guts to. Unfortunately, my enemy is quite the handsome devil himself literally, but I can beat him and soon enough he'll see my ways.

Just you wait Kurt Hummel, I'm going to show you the ways of school justice, even if I have to tie you up to a chair myself and straighten you out to a proper and respectful high school student.

x

**AN:** Will Blaine really have to tie Kurt to a chair?  
>What made Blaine hate Kurt so much?<br>Will Blaine join Glee Club?  
>Tune in next time!<p> 


End file.
